


Would you smooch a ghost?

by aurorae



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Other, this runs under the idea that only mettaton can touch blooky as if he was a tangible being
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5281400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurorae/pseuds/aurorae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mettaton pays a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Would you smooch a ghost?

**Author's Note:**

> theres so many one shots i wanna do but theres so little time but my weak ass kokoro screams out for mettaton/blooky so ill take the advice of roxette and follow my heart
> 
> so heres some short fluffy shit for the holidays

They should fill the cracks on the ceiling, Napstablook considered as they upheld the customary, family tradition of remaining stationary over the floor. Lying on their back and levitating an inch off the floorboards, they achieved their daily goal of feeling like garbage. They blinked once, twice, and a third time, then closed their eyes and released a noiseless exhale.

Their sole company was the low, but lively hum of the commercials on the television screen.

And as the atmosphere of the house established a calm but underlying, oppressive loneliness that permeated the scarcely-furnished living room, the somber setting was then severed by the abrupt burst of liveliness of their unanticipated guest, who announced his arrival and broke the metal hinges off the door in his own eagerness.

Napstablook rose forward. They instinctively hovered closer to the back of the room in case they needed to phase through the walls.

Mettaton lowered the broken door to reveal himself. He flashed a bright grin and greeted his cousin, “Blooky, darling, I missed you so much!” he said, his enunciation laced with an exaggerated whine that was practically theatrical. He returned the door against the frame with very little regard to its visibly skewed placement. He approached Napstablook, his heels clicking against the hardwood. 

It was an unconscious reflex to avoid personal contact, so Napstablook zipped aside, which caused the robot to stumble when he failed to envelop his arms around their spectral form. Mettaton studied his empty arms for a brief moment, then redirected his gaze to Napstablook.

They flinched as they observed his former smile wilt. “Oh…I shouldn’t have done that.” Drawing forward, they swooped beneath his arms and wiggled into the provided space. When they peered above, Napstablook noticed the heart-shaped pupils dilate against his rosy colored irises.

Mettaton’s crestfallen mood was uplifted. He secured his grip and nuzzled his chin against the rounded crest of Napstablook’s head.

Mettaton plopped himself onto the floor. He drummed his fingers against the ghost’s sides as he wearily confessed, “Today has been such a stressful day in the studio. If it wasn’t one problem with the cameras, it was another. There was no other option but to broadcast a rerun until they can fix the technical difficulties! Now my poor, adoring beauties won’t be able to see the new episode of my cooking show,” he lamented. He supplied a dramatic sniffle before adding, “It’s tragic!”

They were about to express an apology until Mettaton spoke first and added, “And I thought to myself, ‘I need  _something_  to make this day absolutely fabulous!’ So of course I needed to visit my sweet, precious little Blooky to feel all better!”

There was a small absence in the embrace as Napstablook shifted. Mettaton lolled his head to the side to determine the cause of their unease.

The white veil of their body was betrayed by a warm, blue glow blooming under their watering eyes. Napstablook’s mouth fumbled as they struggled to form a response, their voice tattled into a jumble of incoherent murmurs, and they fidgeted restlessly to hide their expression from Mettaton.

Mettaton, however, fluttered his legs in a gale of happiness, and endeared by his cousin’s modesty, he offered a patient grin. “Aww, sweetheart!” he cooed, “It’s okay, you don’t have to feel so embarrassed!”

Although they were initially overwhelmed by a plethora of enigmatic emotions, Napstablook’s nervous tremble eventually subsided as they succumbed to a comfortable slouch against the robot’s metallic chest plate. The remainder of their afternoon was spent in front of the television, and when the channel broadcasted the rerun, Mettaton informed them that it featured an interview that was held the prior week.

Mettaton tore a piece of the leftover ghost sandwich and fed them—they tried to protest, but did not have the willpower to decline the request: itsaddened them to potentially disappoint Mettaton—who leisurely nibbled on the bun.

Napstablook nearly floundered when his voice escalated to an overly-enthused outburst. “Listen to this part!”

The interviewer on the television stole a glance of the paperwork in its talons, then set the sheets against the table and cleared its throat. “Welcome back to our Q-and-A segment with the Underground’s biggest superstar, Mettaton!” The avian monster paused to allow the studio audience to clap and cheer. Once the audience quieted down, it continued, “One fan referred to the question you asked on your previous game show with the human. They would like to know whether or not  _you_  would ‘smooch’ a ghost.”

There was an overdrawn silence after the monster posed the question: it stretched uncomfortably so that it provoked an audience member in the backdrop to feign a cough. Mettaton tucked the back of his palm under his chin, his shoulders juddered in quiet laughter, and with a genuine, enamored lull lacing his words, he admitted, “I would.” Averting his gaze from the bird creature, he tilted his head to regard the camera directly. “And would very much like to.”

If they had lungs, Napstablook was certain they would have choked on their sandwich. Mettaton set the plate down and then turned off the television.

“Blooky.”

In response, the blue flush resurfaced.

“May I?”

This time he eased his grip and provided an ample amount of free room, as if he anticipated the possibility of rejection. Mettaton waited, but when his cousin did not display any indication of answering or escaping, he forcibly brushed aside his disappointment and was inclined to the idea of playing a few tracks from Napstablook’s mixed CDs to alleviate the tense mood.

Napstablook turned to face Mettaton and gave the robot the tiniest of nods.  

Mettaton’s eyes lit up. In an elated fervor, he leaned forward and peppered the ghost’s face with the lightest of kisses.

**Author's Note:**

> my agenda includes making something fontcest related and a thing w flowey and sans so if u have problematic faves i am here ✌(◕‿-)✌


End file.
